Consequences
by wildroses-peonies
Summary: Felicity Smoak - sexual fantasies - Smoaking Canary and Olicity references I wrote this during summer 2014. I don't view Felicity as being sexually inexperienced or vanilla where sex is concerned. So tired of 95% of fandom writing her as inexperienced/vanilla/the sub. I still have mixed feelings about this fic though.


They were going home the night, leaving her to wrap things up on a computer. She was usually the last to leave, but they didn't know why. They thought it was just her habit of wanting to tidy things up, make sure the cave was in order. Of course, Oliver, Diggle, and Sara saw to double and tripling checking the weapons stock, that their costumes were ready, that their lies were all in order.

For as much as she was able to see them, in their sweaty semi-nude states, it was when she was alone, Felicity enjoyed letting her imagination run wild. They all knew she enjoyed watching them on the salmon ladder, and that they enjoyed showing off being on the salmon ladder for her, but they didn't know about that other kink. She kept it to herself.

They were going up the stairs. At the last, Oliver turned and ran back down to the computers where she was sitting. "My phone." He pointed it out to her. Yes, don't forget that. He smiled at her as he ran up the steps again. Sara was arguing with Diggle over what would make a good present for Sin. Oliver was taking the night off, or so he hoped. Their business for the day was done, so they were returning to other lives. The door upstairs slammed shut. Eventually, she heard them above her, their muffled and their footsteps retreating as they departed for the night.

Finally, it was all silent. She kept the room brightly lit. She went over to a cupboard and pulled out the judo sticks. It was a strange kink to have, but an enjoyable one. She knew if she asked Sara or Oliver to teach her how to use them, they would. But, she didn't want to learn how to fight with them, she wanted to use them for sexual means. She wasn't entirely sure she would ever be able to keep those sexual desires out of being trained with them, so she never asked.

A long sigh emerged from her. She could feel the room getting hot and blurry with her pent up feelings. She pulled her skirt up. They had often berated her about wearing heels and short skirts when in the lair. It was fine for Queen Consolidated, but given their work fighting crime, she should be more practical here. She agreed. She knew she was only doing it to get their attention, and for her after work fantasies. She would give it up soon enough, but not now. She already felt too practical as it was already. She caressed a stick and used it to pull off her heels. She put it down for a moment as she let her panties fall to her knees. She then picked up both sticks and held them.

It had all started one day when she came into the lair and Oliver and Diggle were fighting shirtless. Oliver was dancing around Diggle effortlessly, yet Diggle was not easily defeated. They both yelped in pain at each as the smooth batons thwacked at each other's skin. Felicity had not thought of it as anything sexual back then, just two men fighting a form of martial arts she hadn't seen before. But she had a vivid imagination, and one day as she watched them, images of herself fighting with Oliver, than having sex with him, floating into her mind. She was now unable to separate the two. The judo sticks were like vibrators of old. Longer, perhaps sharper, but basically no different from the wooden sticks the wives of sailors used when their husbands went to the seas.

This wasn't her first encounter with kinks though. She had explored BSDM in college. Oh, to be a nerd and be into BSDM! Nobody knew what to do with her. What was a sweet girl like her doing chaining up men and making them beg for mercy? They always called out the safe word too soon— not because she was hurting them, but because they couldn't handle the idea of her someone like her being like that. Sweet girls who liked period dramas and Doctor Who and X-Men weren't supposed to have dirty thoughts and make a man beg for a blow job to end. Her fellow MIT cohorts just couldn't or wouldn't deal with having an awkward, rambling girl having a sex drive that like. She was a freak, they said. She could have been hurt by their words but then she remembered the comics they read. Oh, yeah, they love a sexually driven women until they get one for themselves and their egos go to the dogs.

It came in handy in getting rid of the lacrosse player who kept stalking her. She never told Diggle, Oliver, or Sara that part. So the campus police weren't going to rid of him even he basically camped outside her dorm room nightly for two months. The frat boys who claimed they would do anything for her wouldn't touch him because he was a friend. So she lured him and tied him up. She was sweet. Oh, so sweet, so gentle, so merciless. He never came around again, and he never told anybody why he left her alone. He ran the other way when he saw her on campus.

But this kink. Oh. This kink. She rubbed the batons suggestively against each other. She then rubbed one against her thighs. It could be Oliver or Sara against me. HMMMMM. She had several vibrator at home, but sometimes, she needed something different. Sara and Oliver occasionally practiced with the judo sticks too. Sara with her twinkly eyes who after all this time still said she was cute. Felicity smiled remembering the first time she saw Diggle, Oliver, and Sara fighting each other and then comparing scars. Felicity tried very hard to keep Sara out of her fantasies. Not because she was scared of loving another woman, but because she knew Sara wanted Nyssa back. No sense in getting worked up over a person who would forever be off the market. Diggle and Lyla had each other, so no going there either. So she dreamed of Oliver, and nodded her head fiercely to shake the thought of Sara away.

Were it not for this kink, she would have gladly agreed with them about installing camera in the lair. Oliver claimed he was going to install one anyway, and just you wait until I prove you right on why we need one, Felicity.

She sighed again and put the judo sticks down. Oliver was right. They did need cameras. But how she could get around this kink without being so obviously turned on? Her thoughts had carelessly strayed one day and she had felt her legs go to jelly beneath her. They had all rushed over to her asking if she was alright. She had flushed and said she just needed some water to cool down. Huh— just a like a teenage boy needing a shower, she had thought afterwards. Of course, they had thought she was weak, that she was overwhelmed, and told her to take it easy. She had been hacking into computer systems all her life, had faced down Tockman, and had had Slade's sword against her throat. But take it easy. Okay, whatever.

Still, she found herself absent-mindedly fingering the judo sticks imagining they were Oliver. She imagined Oliver dancing around her effortlessly and gently prodding her legs, her inner thighs, slowly caressing her arms with the judo sticks. She imagined him using one to stroke her vagina. She had talked to him about sex before and knew he had never tried BSDM, but in her fantasies, she could see him being turned on by the judo sticks hitting his rock-hard chest. Diggle had told her before she joined Oliver had fought a criminal at a underground fighting ring to let the beast out, so maybe Oliver —despite everything— would enjoy BSDM.

She couldn't take rubbing the judo sticks on her body anymore and calmly masterbated herself. She no longer felt guilt for that. Not after knowing Sara and Oliver had had sex in the lair. She dug in deep and she dug in hard. The chair was an uncomfortable place to do it, so she laid down on the floor. Lord, it wasn't being single that bothered her — it was having no outlet to explore her fantasies. Or, so it seemed, no outlet.

Felicity let out a moan as her wetness soaked the floor. She should be grossed at out all the germs, but she had seen too many bruises, too much blood, too much sweat and tears to care anymore. Her thoughts got wrapped back in Oliver again. Oliver picking her and making her straddle him as both of them let their judo sticks fall to the floor. Oliver sitting her on the medical table and pulling off her sweatpants and panties and slowly teasing her. He was always teasing her in her fantasies. His polite shoulder pats, his cupping of her face, his careful distance didn't exist in her headspace. No, he was all over her, inappropriate, suggestive, playful. He had picked up a judo stick again and lightly poking it into her, using his fingers and her wetness for their benefit.

She pushed Oliver aside and stood up. They both grabbed at the judo sticks and started fighting again, if this could be called fighting. Oliver laughed and ducked out her way. He whirled around and grabbed her waist. He pushed his chest into her back. There was still clothing between them, but sex was not going to happen just yet. His hands found his way into her inner thighs. But he was breathing hard, focusing his breath. She used that opportunity to whirl around and slam him to the ground. They were all in a mass, a tumble, on the floor. Oliver grabbed for a judo stick, but Felicity was too quick. She slammed him down hard again. Then she slowly kissed him on the lips until he hand slipped away from the judo stick.

Suddenly she stopped. What if Sara had installed those security cameras? Someone one could still be watching her. But that would be — perverted. Well, fuck it if they were. Maybe they needed to reexamine themselves. Just because she couldn't get a date didn't mean she was incapable of sexual feeling, sexual desire, sexual needs. She didn't mind being single— she didn't mind that nobody thought of sexually, but they could still ask. She asked them about their dating lives and she never judged them. Did they ever try to set her up with someone? Inform her about better vibrators? Well, Felicity laughed, Oliver wouldn't do that. She could sense his sexual frustration from a mile away. He had been sexual frustrated for awhile. Did he still feel bad about Sara? Was it Laurel he was desiring? Did Slade's words and their fakery taking him down bother him too much? He should let it go.

Ah, once again, worrying about a man who doesn't think about me that way. Besides, if what she had seen —heard— between him and Isabel was the truth, Oliver was not one for long, dragged out teasing that lead to mindless, fucked out your senses orgasms. He had said he was a frat boy, and she had known enough frat boys to know they didn't like their sex complicated. But if he ever did look at her that way, she would make desires known. She could deliver as well as receive. She could feel her nerves give way. She was tired. She needed to go home, but instead she lay there. Even though her panties lay down by her feet and the judo sticks were out and the computer updates weren't wrapped up, she didn't care. Slowly, she fell asleep.

She no longer cared. There would be consequences in the morning, but there were always consequences and they were never on her. Let the pieces fall where they may. They had all done worse, and there was nothing wrong with a girl having a little sexual desire and expressing it where she would.


End file.
